Perugorria portrays difficult character with ease

Perugorria portrays difficult character with ease

‘Strawberry’ revives Cuban film industry with strong acting,
Oscar nomination

By Lael Loewenstein

Daily Bruin Staff

It may have lost the Best Foreign Film Oscar to Russia’s Burnt
by the Sun last week, but the Cuban entry Strawberry and Chocolate
got more mileage out of its nomination than most films do by
winning awards.

In fact, Strawberry and Chocolate has almost singlehandedly
revived international interest in the Cuban film industry. A drama
of friendship set against the backdrop of political unrest in 1970s
Havana, Strawberry and Chocolate has been praised for its sensitive
portrayal of political and social intolerance in a country rife
with struggle. After winning awards at the Berlin Film Festival and
the Latin American Film Festival, it became the first Cuban film to
be nominated for an Oscar.

The film’s star Jorge Perugorría, a Havana native, recently
sat down with the Bruin to reflect on the film and his changing
homeland.

"Working with Tomás (Gutierrez Alea, the director) was a
great experience. I learned a lot," Perugorría says through a
translator. Though he had worked in theater, Strawberry and
Chocolate was his first film.

In the film Perugorría plays Diego, a flamboyant gay
artist. The actor bears little resemblance to his onscreen persona:
Diego is a graying 40, Perugorría a vital 29. Diego is
extroverted, Perugorría reserved. Diego is gay,
Perugorría straight. But his performance is so convincing that
he has earned international accolades and the Latin American Film
Festival Best Actor award.

When he read for the film, Perugorría thought he was
auditioning for the part of David, the straight, twentysomething
student who Diego attempts to seduce.

"I thought I was closer in age and experience to David," he
recalls. But he soon realized that Alea had other plans for
him.

Because the character was intended to be 45, Perugorría
started out wearing layers of makeup. But Alea quickly dispensed
with the cosmetics, advising the actor to work from within by
focusing on the Diego’s motivation rather than his physical
demeanor.

"Diego was a complex part to play," he says. "When you play a
homosexual character, you run the risk of turning it into a
caricature, not a real person."

Ironically, when we first see Perugorría as Diego he seems
exactly that, a mannered, effeminate cartoon of a homosexual. But
Diego soon evolves into a believably rounded, sensitive person.
That development was by design.

"What we were trying to do was to make the viewer have the same
experience as David," he explains. At first the virginal,
homophobic David is threatened by Diego, unable to see past the
artist’s sexual orientation. But bit by bit the two men become
friends, Diego urges David to date a woman he knows, and the artist
and student gradually earn each other’s trust.

"David eventually comes to see Diego as a full human being. They
come to accept their differences," he says.

The actor prepared for his role by interviewing his and Alea’s
many gay acquaintances. "Tomás introduced me to two friends of
his who reminded him of Diego, and I did some research with gay
friends from theater groups," he says, but the final result was a
composite. "I took little pieces of many different gay men I
observed to make Diego."

The film’s gay audiences were greatly touched by the story.
"They really identified with the characters. Some of them, when
they watched the movie, were suffering and crying because it
reminded them of a time when there was a lot of repression against
homosexuals in Cuba," he says. "Some of them approached me and told
me that it was difficult for them to watch the movie because it
made them think of their own lovers who had to flee Cuba (because
of sexual intolerance, which has only in recent years begun to
subside as Castro has loosened some restrictions)".

Strawberry is one of the first Cuban films to deal openly with
homosexuals, but it is not the only film to challenge the status
quo.

Since the founding of the state-run Institute for
Cinematographic Arts in Cuba (ICAIC), Perugorría explains,
there have been two strains in Cuban cinema: "One tendency is
formed by directors who want to talk about the achievements and the
evolution of the revolution and the other is formed by the
filmmakers that have made a point of drawing attention to social
issues and injustices by questioning values."

Although it is not uncommon to find Cuban films which
interrogate aspects of the Castro regime, "it is very difficult to
defeat censorship," he admits, "especially since the government is
giving money to support the national film industry."

"If you present a project that openly attacks the revolution, of
course it won’t get made," he continues. "But there are many ways
in art to say the things you want to say. There are many movies in
Cuba which question the mistakes of the revolution, but not the
revolution itself."

In spite of, or perhaps because of, its politics, Strawberry and
Chocolate is the most successful Cuban film to date, and its
positive reception has encouraged Cuban filmmakers to push for the
loosening of censorship. But that may be a ways off, he
acknowledges.

"The Cuban cinema is now stronger to fight censorship, because
it is more recognized at the international level, and that will
really help."

As for Perugorría, he is currently his country’s hottest
export next to cigars. The actor spent his brief visit to the U.S.
granting interviews and doing magazine photo shoots. He has another
film upcoming with Alea, and he is talking with Spanish director
Pedro Almodovar about a possible collaboration. But the success
hasn’t gone to his head.

Asked if he is his country’s most famous actor, he responds
diplomatically, "I’m lucky enough to be an actor with a lot of work
right now."

Thanks largely to Perugorría’s memorable performance, the
film is opening the world’s eyes to Cuban cinema. Oscar or no
Oscar, Strawberry and Chocolate will prove to be much more than the
flavors of the month.